


you're my head, you're my heart.

by curseandtell



Series: and you with your tender offerings [1]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, soft soft softtttt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23501170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curseandtell/pseuds/curseandtell
Summary: Zelda has a nightmare. Marie softly assists.(first drabble in a series of zarie drabbles/one-shots.)
Relationships: Zelda Spellman & Mambo Marie LaFleur, Zelda Spellman / Mambo Marie LaFleur
Series: and you with your tender offerings [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691044
Comments: 1
Kudos: 47





	you're my head, you're my heart.

**Author's Note:**

> zelda/softness is my otp okay? okay.

Foolish to believe the nightmares were gone for good. Even more foolish to entertain for even half a second the notion that such things could be hidden—-especially from Marie, easily the most intuitive, most perceptive woman Zelda had ever known. 

The first time she woke with her heart pounding, lungs short of breath and mouth open in a silent call for help, she managed to get herself under control in relatively short order while Marie only barely stirred beside her. 

The second time was worse, because the nightmare was worse. This was one she had endured before, what felt like years ago now but in reality had only been weeks. A flashback to Rome, though the precise location was garbled and twisted in the way dreams are wont to garble and twist; Faustus pressing his fingers so tightly against her throat she gasped and coughed and whenever she tried to fight him off her arms refused to comply, hands frozen in position to scratch and claw at his wrists, his chest, his face, whatever she could reach if only she could _move,_ if only she could shout or scream or _breathe_ …

When she snapped back into consciousness, the shift was rough and startling. Clutched tight in one hand was a corner of the bedsheet and in the other, she could feel sore, angry half-moons across her palm, fingernails digging far too deep in a clenched fist.

“ _Chérie…_ ” 

Marie was sitting up stark straight, bare skin glistening in the moonlight streaming from the window across the room. Had the circumstances been any less dire, Zelda would have appreciated such a sight with earnest adoration. 

But as it was, she still could not move. 

“H—he was t—-trying to—-kill me,” she managed to choke out, voice rasping painfully hoarse from a dry throat. “Faustus—-”

“You are safe,” whispered Marie, “You were dreaming, _mon couer._ Here…” 

Gently, so gently, she began to pry open the witch’s fingers, first freeing the sheet and then slowly from her tightly balled fist. Her nails had drawn blood at the inside of her hand; Marie grimaced at the four even, small scratches but said nothing as she reached for a tissue from the bedside table. 

Zelda’s heart rate slowly returned to a more natural rhythm, aided by the soothing reassurance in Marie’s voice and the soft warmth of her touch. A sting of pain alerted her to the condition of her bloodied palm, currently being gingerly cradled in Marie’s own hand. 

All she could do was shake her head. 

“Do not apologize,” Marie swooped in swiftly before Zelda could speak, for she sensed the words about to spill forth. “I will wrap this up, and we will keep the bandage on through tomorrow to stave off infection. Understood?” 

She had procured a small handkerchief from Zelda’s nightstand drawer as well. Once it had been tied about the wounds, Marie kept hold of those trembling hands and sought her lover’s eyes. 

“My sweet Zelda… no harm will come to you, not while I am here. I promise you that, a thousand times over. I will say it as much as you need to hear it so you may believe it.” 

And oh, how Zelda _wanted_ to believe it. The intention was true and pure, that she knew, but she knew just as well that Faustus Blackwood could and likely would resurface to seek retribution however he saw fit—-and *when* he did, she would be his first target. 

For the moment, she simply leaned forward and rested her cheek against Marie’s chest. 

“I thought I had put all of this behind me. I thought… I thought it was _over._ ” Her voice was much smaller than usual, meek and muffled against the other woman’s skin. 

“It _is_ over, but you must allow yourself the time to heal.” Marie bowed her head to place a kiss at the nape of Zelda’s neck. “If I could take your pain away from you, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

“I know.”

She did. She did know that Marie meant every single word, that Marie was her shelter and her safety and her light shining bright in a long, long tunnel of darkness. 

When they settled down for sleep, Zelda indulged a request she had historically denied, letting Marie hold her close as she drifted off—-and as a result, she drifted off in record time. In those arms she felt as close to peace as ever, protected and secure. 

Marie, for her part, waited until she was certain the witch had fallen asleep. Only then did she press two fingers against Zelda’s temple, murmuring very low an incantation meant to evoke tranquil, dreamless slumber. It was the least she could do, though she was rather sure that Zelda would resist if she were to offer it outright. Some things were best left unsaid, and in this instance, what Zelda did not know could not hurt her. 

It could, and did, only help.


End file.
